Super Goal: Separate Fans From Money

Warner Hessler

January 27, 1996|By WARNER HESSLER Daily Press

TEMPE, ARIZ. — If I had never attended a Super Bowl before, I could think of a number of reasons to whip out my credit card, find a ticket and be part of an event that is annually called a Monument to Excess.

It would give me a chance to spend a few days in an attractive area, pay people to cook my meals and make my bed, and, when my energy and bank account levels were about to reach the red line, Sunday would come around, and I would relax and watch a football game.

Well, I have attended a Super Bowl, this is the 19th, and I can tell you flat out that if I were a fan, I could think of a number of reasons to stay home and spend my money in the Tidewater area.

Don't get me wrong. This is a great work week for a writer. If you want to work, this event gives you all the work you can stand. But if you want to party, be prepared to bleed green. And when you get home, you'll wonder whatever possessed you to spend $200 in January for a cheesy souvenir jacket that will go for about $40 at a Foot Locker near you in February.

Every Super Bowl is about money. Lots of it. And the NFL annually releases a survey that describes the average Super Bowl fan. This year, he makes $76,000, and 34 percent make more than $100,000, and 35 percent own their own companies or sit on the board of directors. That doesn't sound like most of us. It certainly doesn't describe me.

This week, Super Bowl XXX is being held smack dab in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. This one is truly a monument to eXXXcess. The theme is southwestern, and the locals are trying to separate the city-slickers from their bankroll with some of the schlockiest southwestern stuff imaginable.

Want to be an officially licensed Cowboy? That will be $4.95, please. Want a tequila-flavored lollipop, with a worm inside - a no-fat, no-calorie worm, no less? That's another $3.95.

Want a jar of real Arizona dirt, the kind you've been walking on for the past few days? A bargain at $1.50. A shopkeeper said some rubes - my word, not hers - have actually bought some dirt. She told them it was drier than their dirt back home.

How about an official Super Bowl windbreaker? I had to buy one in Miami last year because it was unseasonably cold. The cost of this windbreaker, with a usual retail price of $35, was $60. This year that same windbreaker, with a Super Bowl XXX patch replacing the Super Bowl XXIX patch, costs $74 at stores off the beaten path and $99.99 at a shop here in the media hotel.

Now, if you really want to run with the big corporate dogs, don't bring money. Bring your corporate charge card. The first thing you need is a suite in the ritzy Scottsdale area. The least expensive at the Scottsdale Princess costs $2,300 per night. The most expensive at the swanky Phoenician costs $4,400 per night.

If you're a really big dog like Donald Trump, and you need to flaunt it for your fellow kennel members, you do what he did last year in Miami. You fly to the game city in a private jet, take a limo to your suite, a helicopter to the stadium, and head for your private jet after the game in the same helicopter. There are 375 such chopper landings planned for the pad near Sun Devil Stadium Sunday.

Somewhere in this mix are 3,000 members of the media.

Our hotel rooms cost a flat $150 per night, we walk four or five blocks off the beaten path to find a moderately priced deli, and we resist the temptation to pay $2.95 for a box of Arizona Roadkill Helper, which is nothing more than a small box with a few pieces of macaroni inside. We'll pay $60 for a windbreaker, but only if it's a cold day in Miami.